How's Alive Feel?
by GravityVanel14
Summary: Dipper, otherwise known as Monster, has lived his life without feeling anything. He has yet to know what alive feels. Mabel Northwest, the rich, popular girl who has it all knows exactly what alive feels. Maybe these two could help each other. If only they weren't so stubborn and realized. (NO PAIRINGS!)


**A/N: Okayyy...This idea keeps changing! First, an alternative ending to the Sock Opera, then a Bill fic, now this?! Geez brain, you can think of fanfics but you can't write a thing in English! Ugh! Anyway, I did this for English (Like finally!) My teacher said it was not what she was looking for. On the bright side, she now knows I'm not bad at writing. Nor good. Just ok.**

**I decided to combine all my ideas and make this thing! I know it's confusing, but that's the whole point! So don't start screaming at me! It's an 'AU' hehehehe...**

**Disclaimer: Gravity Falls does NOT belong to me. Someone else has that honor.**

* * *

How's Alive Feel?

~Prologue~

He clawed at his skin, his nails digging into his flesh. "Feel something, feel something." A voice chanted in his head. He continued, with his brown eyes wide and his breathing slowing. "Feel something." He reminded himself. "Just feel something." He jerked his fingers out of his skin, before drawing scarlet on his arm. "Feel something."

Anyone would be screaming in agony right now. Or at least sobbing. He didn't. No matter how much blood he lost, how many times he stabbed himself, or when he clawed at his skin, he never felt pain. He felt numb.

Always.

The ability to not feel pain was a gift, but also a curse. He couldn't feel a thing.

He didn't know what hugs were; he couldn't feel them. He didn't know what pain was; never felt it before.

He didn't know how heat felt, or how the frigid air felt. He couldn't feel it.

He longed to feel, but he was numb. He tried many times to escape, usually trying to feel in one of the most violent ways;

Death.

Oh how many times he killed himself. Oh how many times he awoke in his bed, the sight of blood no where to be seen. He could never truly die.

"Dipper!"

Dipper. That was his name, right? They never called him that. "Monster, monster." They would say. Not Dipper. No one called him that anymore. No one. Well, except his only 'friend'.

He turned, his gaze softening and his mouth twitching into a smile. In front was the person he could trust to bring him back.

"Dipper, stop."

He looked down at his scarlet coated arms. "I-"

"Stop, just stop." The blond haired boy with his left eye covered by his bangs smiled, a piercing black eye winking at him. He offered a hand and Dipper (Or monster, because honestly, he wasn't sure anymore) gladly took it. Pulling him up, Dipper stood.

"Didn't work?"

He sighed and shook his head.

"C'mon. Let's go home."

He barely knew the boy. He knew his name, Bill, last name starting with a C, and it was all because of him taking a peek at a few certificates. Besides that, he knew that Bill was around 15 to 18 (he never clarified anything, only grinning and saying, "Guess"). Unlike his oneself, Bill arrived 'late' to the orphanage, since he was the oldest child to enter their 'home'.

When he arrived, they weren't exactly best friends. Bill would mostly keep to himself, sitting in a corner and observing everyone, never uttering a word. Sometimes Dipper felt watched and when he turned around, he saw Bill with a huge grin on his face.

This went on for a few months.

Now, the 'happy' and 'sunny' orphanage was known to be , supposedly, the best place _ever _for an orphan. While this was true, there was a much darker, twisted side to it.

Dipper spent all his life there. Arriving at the age of four, the little boy was warmly welcomed. That is, until they saw what he was. They were informed about his rescue from an abusive family and knew that trauma would somehow be involved, but they never imagined this;

He couldn't feel.

He grew up in the non-twisted section of the orphanage, being fed daily, having education and shelter. He never did know there was another section in which those who were rejected were sent to. No one wanted them and would be kept there until they were 18 and allowed to leave.

After an 'incident', he was moved to the other section. There, he learned how hard life was.

He never ate.

He never felt a thing.

And those angry hands...

He watched other kids cry in agony.

He couldn't.

One day, Dipper was getting his daily beating.

"Monster!" The ones in the orphanage screamed. They punched, kicked, slapped and did anything in their power to hurt him. All he did was lay on the floor, watching with an emotionless look. He didn't cry or beg for them to stop. Because secretly, he wanted to feel pain. He thought maybe they could help him.

"Monster!"

Was he really a monster? For lacking the ability to feel?

"How about we chillax for a sec?" Dipper remembered glancing at the boy and seeing none other than the boy who never talked.

Before his abusers could say a word, the blond smiled. "Oooh! Well, would ya look at that? It's 12:00! Ain't it time for those kiddies to get their lunch? Bad luck, huh? Don't worry, you'll get this kid, " he gestured to Dipper, "next time."

With them out of sight, he turned to face Dipper. "Kid, you're sensational! Surviving those beatings? Without crying? Screaming?" He gave a low whistle. "Well aren't you something?"

Dipper looked away uncomfortably. The boy held his hand, ignoring Dipper's uneasiness.

"Name's Bill."

He took his hand and shook it.

"M-Monster."

* * *

The sound of the gate opening snapped him from his train of memories. Digging for his key, Bill chuckled. "Ahh..Sweet, sweet home. Right, Pine Tree?"

He rolled his eyes. Pine Tree was his nickname. How Bill picked it? Who knew. The guy was literally insane. Yet, he remembered when Bill decided it was a nice name. Apparently, monster wasn't a nice name, but Pine Tree was.

The blond whistled a tune as they both walked towards the back door. Again, belonging in a certain section made them enter the building in different ways.

The door swung open as Bill exclaimed, "We're home!~" They were met with a cold, gust of wind. Bill shuddered and then glanced at Dipper, who looked around blankly. No one looked up, all groaning about how the insane guy was back. "Anyone miss us?" Bill grinned and walked in, throwing his arms in the air. After all, he loved dramatic entrances.

His friend, on the other hand, slipped in, going unnoticed by most. He walked over the hard, concrete floor and sat on his assigned bed. Fishing out a bag from under his bed, he grabbed his journal and a pen. He began to write down a few things, events and a few adventures he and Bill had today on their visit to the forest. They were lucky to be allowed to do so.

Bill sat from his right, eagerly watching the brown haired boy write. Dipper took no notice and continued;

_'So far, I failed to feel. I always do. I can't feel and I HATE it! Why can't I feel? I want to feel!_ Even the smallest thing! I. Just. Need. To. Feel.

One thing. Please.

Life in here has been good I guess, I feel numb during beatings, so I'm not affected. Bill has also been tons of fun to hang out with lately, which gives me a distraction from reality. Like he said earlier, "Reality is an illusion."

Whatever that meant.

I've been taunted by my dreams lately; dreams of feeling. It's an obsession, but I want to feel. I'm a human, right? Don't humans feel? But then I remember, I'm not human.

I'm a monster.

Monsters don't feel.

But I can't help wonder...

How's alive feel?'

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Prompt #7:

Alive

Write an essay about what you believe is the true definition of being alive

Mabel Northwest laughed at this. How could this prompt be so stupid? Why the hell did she have to write about this? How would that help her in the future?

Twirling her hair, she yawned and put down her pencil. Glancing at the timer on the screen, she sighed. 20 minutes left. She looked around the room.

The nerds were busy jotting down a rough draft or transferring their paper. The other seemed clueless, blinking and staring at the paper. Mabel looked to her right, where her sister, Pacifica Northwest sat. She looked up and smiled at her best friend. Mabel smiled back and decided to re-read the prompt.

The sight of a white piece of paper caught her eye. Snatching it, she read;

_'Why are you complicating yourself, Mabes? I just put, "It's simple. You know you're alive when your heart is beating."_

She grinned and wrote back.

_'Sis, it says essay.'_

She giggled at the blonde's response;

_'Pfft. I'll just add more sentences and scientific facts. Duh.'_

The brunette then proceeded to write.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the bell rang, signalizing second period was over. Students jumped out of their seat and ran out, much to the teacher's angry shouts. Mabel placed her notebook inside her backpack (she thought lockers took too much time) and took out her math binder for the next period.

"Let's go, Mabel!"

"Coming Pacifica!"

Mabel opened the door, ready to follow when she was called back by her English teacher. Pacifica winked and walked out.

"Yes miss?"

"Clever definition."

Mabel smiled and opened the door. "Thanks!" She rushed towards her math class, a bit annoyed that Pacifica left her alone. She didn't like getting separated from her twin!

Still, she was happy with her teacher's comment. It seemed stupid, though.

After all, who wouldn't know how alive feels?


End file.
